Jima's face fell, the light in his eyes dimming as if a heavy cloud had shrouded his very soul. He took a deep breath, the weight of unspoken memories pressing on his shoulders. His gaze drifted beyond Ryuuji, as though he saw not the present, but specters of the past. The air around them seemed to grow colder, the wind whispering secrets that refused to be heard.
Slowly, Jima turned his back on Ryuuji, his hands clasping tightly behind him. The subtle tremor in his fingers betrayed the turmoil he fought to suppress. His voice, when it finally emerged, was quiet yet firm, each word carved from granite.
"It doesn't matter who my teacher was," Jima said, his tone carrying a solemn finality that seemed to echo off the trees. "What matters is that you must grow stronger, Ryuuji. Stronger than anyone. Only then will you rise to the true peak of this cruel world."
Jima's eyes darkened as he thought to himself, 'Only then will you survive the storm that looms on the horizon, the storm that I fear I won't be present to shelter you from.'
He turned back to face Ryuuji, his gaze searching, though his words came out stoic. "Don't waste your time dwelling on the past. Focus on what lies ahead. Now, have you decided which weapon you want to wield?"
The question hung in the air like a knife. Ryuuji's lips remained still, but his mind roared with a storm of thoughts.
'Why won't he answer?' Ryuuji's frustration simmered beneath the surface, but he swallowed it down. His instincts screamed that Jima's refusal only confirmed his suspicions.
'His teacher... it has to be that man, someone beyond even the legends. But if he won't tell me, there's a reason.' He exhaled slowly.
'Fine. He's right. There are more important things right now.'
'System,' Ryuuji called out within the chambers of his mind, his voice sharp with determination, 'which weapon would suit me best?'
The System's response was infuriatingly slow, stretching the seconds into an eternity.
[The best weapon for you would be...]
The pause lingered.
'Oh, come on!' Ryuuji's patience cracked. 'Enough with the suspense! Just tell me already!'
[...whatever you like.]
His face twisted in disbelief. His jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed as if he'd just bitten into the most bitter herb imaginable. 'You son of a—! Haah~ No, I need to stay calm. Keep it together. Just blame Danzo.'
He let out a sigh that carried the weight of suppressed curses and glanced back at Jima. "I've decided."
Jima's brow lifted slightly. "Oh? Which one?"
Ryuuji didn't answer. Instead, he turned to the pile of weapons, the glint of steel and iron beckoning like silent sentinels. His fingers sifted through them, cold metal clinking under his touch, until—
SHING!
A glimmer of steel caught his eye. His fingers curled around the hilt of a jagged blade, its gray surface dulled yet brimming with a quiet menace. The black hilt fit his grip with uncanny perfection, as though the weapon had been forged solely for his hand.
He lifted the sword, its weight solid, reassuring. The moment the cold steel met the sunlight, a subtle shimmer danced along the blade, almost like it was waking from a long slumber. Turning to face his grandfather, Ryuuji's eyes glowed with newfound resolve.
"This one."
Jima's eyes widened, the disbelief etched into his weathered face. He took a step closer, his gaze fixed on the blade as though it might dissolve into smoke. The air between them thickened, a silent tension coiling like an invisible serpent.
"Ryuuji... are you sure about this sword?" Jima's voice was carefully measured, but the undercurrent of worry trembled beneath. This was also the weapon someone very close to him had once chosen. At first glance, the sword didn't seem very impressive but Jima knew of that sword's true capabilities. "If you want to use a sword, there are many others in the pile. How about choosing one of them?"
"No, Grandpa." Ryuuji's voice was steady, but his heart raced.
'Why do I feel like I just walked into a trap?' He clenched his teeth. "I've made my choice."
Jima's eyes flickered, a storm raging behind them. His fingers brushed over his chin as if trying to decide whether to speak the words that weighed on his mind.
"Ryuuji," he said quietly, his gaze unwavering, "this sword isn't what it seems."
"I know," Ryuuji lied, forcing a confident smile. 'Crap. I picked it because it looked cool! What did I just get myself into?' He swallowed hard, his inner voice spiraling. 'Too late now. Gotta own it.'
Jima sighed, a mixture of pride and apprehension shadowing his face. He nodded slowly, resignation settling over his shoulders like a heavy cloak.
'Well, so long as he doesn't die all is well I think. Moreover, the sword's true prowess is sealed so, I shouldn't be too worried.'
"Very well. If this is your decision, I won't object." His eyes hardened. "But be prepared. This weapon comes with a burden."
Before Ryuuji could ask what that meant, Jima's left hand shot out, fingers splayed. The air crackled.
The sword shuddered violently in Ryuuji's grasp, an icy chill racing up his arm. His eyes widened in horror as the blade writhed, fighting to break free.
"W-What's happening!? Woah!?"
The weapon twisted, a serpent of steel slipping from his grip.
FOOSH!
It flew through the air with a will of its own, landing effortlessly in Jima's outstretched hand. Ryuuji's jaw dropped. His brain scrambled for answers.
'Impossible!! How!? How did he do that!?'
[Simple,] the System intoned, its voice calm.
'You know how he did that?' Ryuuji's thoughts practically screamed.
[Yes.]
'Tell me!'
[Chakra Manipulation.]
[It's exactly what the name implies, you control the chakra around you to do your bidding.] The System answered.
'Chakra Manipulation...' The words echoed through Ryuuji's mind, a key unlocking a door he hadn't even known existed. His breath caught as realization flooded him.
'It's like Qi control from those Murim noels ... or the Force from Star Wars... but real.
His lips curled into a grin, a thrill of excitement bubbling in his chest.
'Chakra Choke, here I come.'
Jima's eyes glinted, a smile curving his lips. "Let's begin."
***